


99 Balloons

by personalobserver



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Bottom Harry, Fluff, Harry in Panties, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Pregnant Harry, References to Religion and God, Smut, Top Louis, Trisomy 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3451190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/personalobserver/pseuds/personalobserver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry does his best to convince Louis to get him pregnant because he <i>really</i> wants a baby.</p><p>Harry has always been really good at getting what he wants. Especially when it comes to Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	99 Balloons

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this idea after watching a sad video on YouTube, so I figured I would write an mpreg fic about it.
> 
> Yes, I cried while writing this, so beware.
> 
> P.S. Any mistakes are my own and I haven't read it all the way through yet so don't yell at me k thanks.

Harry can’t stop pacing. He’s being irrational, he knows he is, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just magically stop pacing. He’s been biting the nail of his thumb since he first stepped into the bathroom, and now the nail is pretty much non-existent. 

He glances at himself in the mirror, his wide eyes staring back at him, and then he flicks his eyes down to the baby pink lace panties he has lying on the counter. They aren’t exactly necessary for what he’s about to do (hell, Louis probably doesn’t even know what he’s about to do), but he wants to be sexy for Louis, because then maybe Harry will be more likely to get what he wants.

And what he wants is a baby. Yes. Harry wants a baby.

It’s really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. He might as well just have a huge neon sign on his forehead flashing _I WANT A BABY!_ , because really, that’s how obvious he’s been about it. And he knows Louis knows. Louis for sure knows Harry wants a baby, with how Harry practically squeals every time he sees one in public, or how he refuses to put down their friends’ babies whenever he gets a chance to hold one. So yeah. Louis should totally be on board with this. And if he isn’t, well... that’s just not gonna happen. 

Harry looks up at himself again, and squares his shoulders, raises his chin. Then he starts shucking off his clothes, his limbs flinging the fabric off of his body.

“I’m getting a baby,” he whispers, feeling confident now, stepping out of his jeans and nearly hitting his head on the counter. He shimmies out of his black briefs, balling up his clothes and stuffing them in the hamper by the door, before turning around and picking up the panties, running the rough fabric of the lace between his fingers.

He’s never worn these for Louis before. Of course he’s worn _other_ panties before. Heck, even Louis has worn panties for him before. But these panties are special to Harry, for reasons he can’t quite put a finger on. The color makes them look innocent, but the cut of them and the way they cling to his ass makes them sinful. And he knows it. 

He swallows thickly, suddenly thinking about how Louis is just on the other side of the bathroom door, in their bed probably reading some boring news article on his ipad. He has no idea what Harry is planning right now, Harry having told him he was going to brush his teeth before bed, not put on panties and then seduce him into having a baby with him. _Christ_ , he’s getting nervous again. He steps into the panties before he can change his mind about anything. He looks over himself in the mirror, tucking his flaccid cock between his thighs to make his groin look more feminine. With an approving nod, he gives himself a wink and finger guns in the mirror. _He’s got this._

With one hand gripping the doorknob, he runs his other hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before opening the door and stepping onto the plush carpet of their bedroom. 

Louis doesn’t even look at him. He’s lying on their bed, propped up on a throne of pillows. His glasses are perched on the end of his nose as he squints at the glowing screen of his ipad. He looks like a fucking nerd, and Harry wants to have a baby with him. _God._

Harry steps further into the room and clears his throat when the soft duvet cover brushes his knees. He has his hands clasped behind his back, just to make sure Louis can see everything, and Louis does a double take when he looks up at him. First just glancing at Harry and smiling softly, looking back down at his ipad before his head snaps up again, mouth agape as his eyes rake over Harry’s body. Harry can’t fight the shy smile blossoming on his lips. 

“Haz?” Louis asks, setting his ipad down on his nightstand. “You alright?”

Harry rolls his eyes, resting a hand on his hip. “Yes, I’m alright.” He gestures with his other hand, sweeping over his exposed body, as if to say ‘ _does it look like I’m alright?_. 

Louis sits up in bed, the duvet pooling around his hips. Harry watches his throat as he swallows. “Are you sure?”

And... _what?_. Harry juts out his bottom lip, feeling a pout coming on as his hand falls from his hip. “Why does something have to be wrong for me to want to do this for you?” He can feel his chin starting to quiver, but he pinches the back of his thigh to prevent himself from crying. _Jesus_ , he’s being so emotional and he’s not even pregnant yet. 

“Nonono, babe. I’m sorry,” Louis rushes to say, crawling down to sit at the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the side and spreading his thighs so Harry can step between them. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, reaching up to caress the side of Harry’s neck, massaging his thumb into the taught muscle of his throat. 

Harry leans into the pressure of Louis’ hand on his neck, lifting his hands to rest them on Louis shoulders. “I just wanted to be pretty for you,” he says, barely above a whisper. He traces an index finger along Louis collarbone, down between his pecs. He bats his lashes and bites his lip, skimming his hand along the waistband of Louis’ briefs. “I like being pretty for you.”

Louis groans, both of his hands reaching around to cup Harry’s ass, his fingers digging into the fabric. “Yeah, babe. I know you like it. You just...haven’t done this in a while.” He raises an eyebrow and emphasizes his point by rubbing at the sensitive skin where Harry’s thigh meets his ass, not covered by his panties. 

Harry hums, moving his hands to grip at Louis’ shoulders again. He starts swaying his hips, pushing into the pressure of Louis hands on his ass. He revels in the feel of Louis’ hands on him, touching him, claiming him. Louis begins kissing across his belly, his tongue tracing his laurel tattoos, teeth biting at his hips bones. Harry imagines Louis doing the same thing, but with Harry’s belly swollen and plump with a baby. His eyes squeeze shut and he moans unexpectedly, can feel himself starting to get hard between his thighs, and it’s not the most comfortable thing he’s experienced.

Louis clicks his tongue, seemingly knowing Harry’s struggle. He rubs over the front of Harry’s panties, the rough lace scratching against the base of his cock, only making the situation worse and better simultaneously. 

“Why’re you hiding the goods, babe?” Louis asks, clutching at Harry’s thigh to pull him closer, his hand still working over the front of the panties.

“Because th-the panties look weird when I’m hard,” he says, brows furrowed and breathing labored, his hips rocking into Louis’ hand. 

Louis pulls away suddenly, resting back on his hands. He spreads his thighs wider and it pulls Harry’s attention down to the line of Louis’ semi-hard cock in his briefs. “Show me,” Louis says, and at first Harry doesn’t even know what he means, but then Louis raises his brow and shifts his hips.

Harry is quick to shove his hand down his panties, but Louis digs his cold toes into Harry’s shin.

“Turn around and fix yourself, babe.”

Harry nods jerkily, shuffling his feet until he’s facing away from Louis. He can feel his cheeks burning, knowing Louis can now see how the panties cover very little of his ass. He startles into motion when a hand starts grasping at one of his ass cheeks, pushing and pulling and kneading at the exposed flesh. His hand is still down the front of his panties, and he just has to grip his dick and shift his thighs, adjusting his hard cock to lie against the line of his hip, barely covered by the flimsy fabric. 

“Are you finished, baby?” Louis asks, his hand no longer groping Harry’s ass. 

“Yeah,” Harry squeaks out, knocking his knees together and smoothing his tongue over his dry lips. 

“Let me see, then.”

Harry turns back around, keeping his arms by his sides, and refraining from covering his crotch like he wants to, because he knows how obscene his rock hard cock looks in the barely-there panties. He looks at Louis through his lashes, watching as Louis rubs himself over his briefs. He stands there awkwardly, his fingers clenching at his sides as Louis just looks at him, continuing to rub himself, and Harry notices Louis’ cock continuing to get harder and harder. And Harry wants it.

“Touch me please,” Harry whines, stumbling forward to stand between Louis’ thighs, clutching at his shoulders. 

Louis chuckles lightly, sitting up and grabs at the soft edges of Harry’s hips, pulling him closer and licking a broad stripe along Harry’s cock through the panties. Harry gasps, his hips bucking at the sudden contact, the warmth of Louis’ tongue seeming to seep throughout his entire body. 

“Babe?”

Harry holds his breath, opening his eyes and looking down to see Louis looking up at him curiously.

“You okay?” Louis asks, rubbing the tip of his index finger around the head of Harry’s cock. “You seem a little on edge.”

Harry swallows, closing his eyes briefly to collect himself. He should probably tell Louis right now. Tell him his plan; show him the list of potential baby names he has saved on his phone. Show him the paint samples he’s collected for the nursery. He _should_ tell him, but...he won’t.

He opens his eyes again, noticing how his hips have been subconsciously twitching against Louis’ touch. “I’m good,” he says, his voice high and whispery. “Always good when I’m with you.” He knows it’s cheesy, and he knows Louis would say something about it if the situation were different, but Louis just smiles up at him, his sharp teeth showing. And Harry wants those teeth biting into his thighs. _Yes._

“Come here, then,” Louis murmurs, leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. 

Harry complies easily, climbing up onto the bed to straddle Louis’ hips, sitting down on his lower stomach. He leans down slowly, brushing his lips against Louis’ their breaths mingling for a moment, before Harry presses a hand to the center of Louis’ chest, pushing him completely against the bed. Louis laughs breathily and moves his hands to clutch at Harry’s hips. 

Harry scratches his fingers through Louis’ chest hair, moving his hips back slightly until he can feel the length of Louis’ cock nestled between his cheeks. 

“You gonna kiss me now that you got me where you want me?”

Harry chuckles, lifting up onto his knees and dropping forward onto his hands, hovering over Louis on his hands and knees. He ducks down, tracing Louis’ lower lip with his tongue before nibbling on it with his teeth. “Not until you move up for me.”

Harry stays in his position as Louis shuffles up the bed, pulling himself with his elbows until he’s resting against the pillows. Then he crawls up along the length of Louis’ body, biting his lip and swaying his hips dramatically. He stops when he’s level with Louis’ briefs, but he stretches forward to suck a kiss to Louis’ lips, humming pleasantly when Louis sucks on his tongue. He pulls away to get back to the business involving Louis’ briefs, and more importantly what’s inside. 

He settles down onto his stomach, resting between Louis legs, watching as Louis’ cock twitches in his briefs. He leans down to press a kiss to Louis’ navel, trailing down along the patch of hair leading into his briefs. He shifts down further, leaving open-mouthed kisses down the line of Louis’ cock, giving no warning before shoving his face right into Louis’ crotch. He breathes in deeply, moaning when he can smell how turned on Louis is, the musky scent of his hormones filling his senses and making his mouth water.

“You smell so good,” he groans, ducking down to suck at Louis’ balls through the fabric of his briefs, unable to control the way his hips are shifting down to hump the mattress. He’s just so fucking turned on, all because Louis is turned on, because of _him_. Shit, he needs to calm down or else he’ll come before they even get anything accomplished.

He mewls when Louis’ fingers thread into his hair, scratching at his scalp before he grips tightly near the roots of his hair, jerking his hand slightly so Harry’s moaning and his nose nudges against Louis’ cock. Louis knows what hair pulling does to Harry. It was established on their first date all those years ago when Louis’ hand got stuck in Harry’s curls during a kiss. He had tried to pull away, but ended up yanking at Harry’s hair, causing Harry to groan softly and clutch at Louis’ bicep, his pupils widening in want. And yeah, maybe they fucked on the first date. So what. 

“You gonna suck me, baby?”

Oh. Right. Harry blinks his eyes, refocusing on the moment and appreciating Louis’ fingers still tangled in his hair. He nods his head, laving his tongue all over Louis’ clothed dick, soaking the fabric with how much his mouth is watering. He makes quick work of yanking down Louis’ briefs, not even allowing Louis’ cock to slap up against his stomach before he’s sliding him into his mouth, pressing his nose to his groin. 

“ _Shit_ , babe. So eager for it, hm?” Louis starts shifting his hips, shallowly thrusting into Harry’s mouth, and Harry keeps his hands lax on Louis’ hips, letting him use his mouth as he pleases. “God, your mouth is so wet. My cock so good it makes your mouth water. Makes you hungry for it.”

Harry nods as best he can, a squeaky affirmation sounding in the back of his throat. He barely even has to bob his head with how Louis is thrusting into his mouth. He just breathes deeply through his nose and relaxes his throat, shifting his tongue along the underside of Louis’ dick. He knows his eyes are watering, can feel the tears streaking down the sides of his nose, over his lips, and onto Louis’ cock.

He gasps for breath when Louis’ uses the hand in his hair to yank him off his cock, pulling on his hair until Harry is staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding against his chest. This is all turning out to be a lot dirtier than Harry had planned. He originally planned on a soft, slow fuck to get the deed done, and then he would just immediately stock up on pregnancy tests. He really just wants Louis to fuck him already...

“Want me to eat your pussy, baby?”

...and okay, the fucking part can wait. He nods his head eagerly, at least, as well as he can with how Louis is still gripping at his hair. He flops over onto his back as soon as Louis lets go of his hair. His chest is heaving with his breaths as he watches Louis take off his briefs and maneuvers himself to get into position, slotting his legs between Harry’s thighs and hovering over him, his hands pressed into the mattress by Harry’s ears.

“So beautiful,” Louis murmurs, kissing at the edge of Harry’s jaw, making him squirm with pleasure. 

He continues pressing kisses down Harry’s neck, nibbling at his pulse point before sinking his teeth into the muscle. Harry’s entire body jolts, nearly bucking Louis off of him as he moans lewdly, slurs of _fuck fuck fuck_ tumbling from his lips.

“Shh, baby. Shh,” Louis croons, briefly locking their lips together, allowing Harry to suck on his tongue greedily for a moment. “I’ve got you, princess. Just calm down, okay?” They lock eyes and Harry gasps at the intense stare Louis is giving him.

They maintain eye contact as Louis begins kissing down his chest, taking a brief detour to suck at Harry’s left nipple, making his thighs shake and his breath hitch. He goes back to kissing down the line of Harry’s abs, his stare never faltering. Harry digs his nails into the duvet when Louis’ tongue teases at the head of his cock through the fabric, and he knows his panties are most likely see-through by now with how much his cock has been leaking. 

“Want me to take your pretty panties off, princess?” Louis’ breath ghosts over his cock, causing it to twitch suddenly. 

“ _Please_ ,” Harry whines, throwing his head back against the mattress when Louis wastes no time in pulling the frilly fabric down his thighs, leaving them around his knees. 

“You’re so hard, baby. Must hurt by now.”

It’s not a question, because Louis fucking _knows_ how hard he is; can clearly see Harry’s dick right there in front of his face, but Harry whines anyway, nodding his head quickly, hoping maybe Louis will use his mouth to pull him back from the edge a bit, but he’s not really surprised when Louis presses his knees up to his chest, and suddenly his panties are right there for him to see. _Hello_.

It really shouldn’t shock him as much as it does when Louis licks over his hole, his tongue dripping with saliva that slides down his cheeks. Harry mewls, his thighs squeezing together as Louis starts sucking, his tongue prodding at the tight muscle. Honestly, Harry can’t really pay much attention after that, his mind blanking with pleasure as Louis works at his hole. He’s startled back to reality when Louis slides a finger into him, and he’s not really sure how he didn’t notice Louis pull away to grab the lube.

“You with me, Haz?” Louis asks, peeking up at him between Harry’s thighs, obviously having noticed Harry’s lack of mental state. 

“Mmm, good. So good. A-add another, please?”

Louis chuckles, beginning to squeeze another finger in beside the first. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Louis starts thrusting his fingers in and out quickly, he’s fingers scissoring to loosen Harry up enough to slip a third finger in without even saying anything. Harry’s really not sure how he hasn’t come yet; his cock is practically throbbing against his belly, precome pooling into his navel. Louis’ rises up onto his knees, his fingers still thrusting into Harry. He can feel the knuckles of Louis other hand nudging against the back of his thigh from Louis working a hand over himself. 

“You ready for me, baby?”

Harry nods, relaxing into the bed when Louis removes his fingers and reaches up to pull Harry’s panties the rest of the way down his legs. He’s in this mellow state now, his mind foggy, just wanting to get fucked and come already. It’s only when he hears the tearing of foil that his eyes snap open and he sits up straight, becoming dizzy from the sudden movement.

He reaches out and grabs the condom out of Louis’ hands, throwing it across the room. Louis is giving him a concerned look, looking about two seconds away from phoning a psychiatrist. 

“Do you...do you _not_ want me to fuck you?”

Harry nearly chokes on his spit. “No! I mean, yes! I mean...I want you to fuck me, yes.” He bites his lip, not having come up with a plan for how he was going to approach this subject. “I was just... _thinking_ , you know. I was thinking that maybe we could...well, only if you _want_ to, I guess, but um, maybewecannotuseacondom.”

Now Louis is looking at him even weirder, his eyebrows disappearing into his bangs. “Y-you _don’t_ want me to use a condom? But that’s risky, Haz. I know there’s not a lot of research about it, but there are small amounts of sperm in precome, and if we wanted to get you pregnant, that’d be—”

Harry presses a finger to his lips, raises his eyebrows and gives Louis a _meaningful_ look. He waits patiently for Louis to understand, and he knows it’s happened when Louis’ eyes somehow get even bigger, his mouth falling open against Harry’s finger.

“ _Harry_ ,” he croaks, lurching forward to grab Harry’s face, kissing him roughly, pulling away to gasp for air. “Baby?”

Harry nods his head. “Baby,” he replies. He can feel his eyes brimming with tears, but Louis is quick to kiss them away and press their foreheads together; their breaths mingling as Louis pushes him back to lie down.

“Gonna fill you with my baby, then,” he says, and Harry is pretty sure him not coming right then and there is a sign that he’ll be an excellent parent. 

**

Harry tosses the third negative pregnancy test into the trashcan. “Why is this taking forever?” he groans, slumping forward against the counter in front of the sink.

“Harry,” Louis chuckles, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist from behind, pressing a kiss below his ear. “It’s only been a day since we had sex. I’m sure it’ll take a bit longer than that.”

Harry shakes his head. No, it will _not_ take longer than that. He grabs one of Louis’ hands and tugs him into the bedroom. “I need you to fuck me again,” he says, beginning to strip off his clothes, then turning to help rid a speechless Louis out of his sweats. 

“Okay,” Louis agrees easily, lifting Harry by the waist and tossing him down onto the bed, climbing to rest in between his legs.

“Wait,” Harry breathes, pressing a hand to Louis’ chest when he leans down for a kiss.

“What is it, babe?”

“I... Well, I was just wondering, like, since y’know, sperm is required to have a baby, and, like, after the last time I didn’t even think about making sure there was enough sperm around for fertilization, so maybe _that’s_ why I’m not pregnant? I don’t know, but I was thinking we could use something to, like, make sure the sperm is around...for fertilization, I mean.”

Louis quirks a brow and sits back on his knees, rubbing his hands along Harry’s inner thighs. “So, if I’m understanding you correctly – which, I think I am – I believe what you’re asking for is your plug. Am I correct?” He’s smirking down at Harry, and it’s making him anxious, his thighs twitching under Louis’ hands, his cock starting to fill. 

He nods his head, chewing on his lower lip, watches as Louis leans over to rummage through the nightstand. His heart has started to race, and he hooks his ankles around Louis’ waist, trying to calm himself with the feeling of Louis between his legs. He just _really_ wants a baby, dammit. 

“Here,” Louis whispers, ducking down to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek as he slips the plug into Harry’s hand. “Hold on to it for me.”

“Okay,” Harry murmurs, his fingers tightening around the cool plastic. He whines when Louis presses two fingers into his hole, opening up and pulling Louis’ fingers into him.

“You’re so greedy, baby,” Louis says, his voice traced with something like awe. “You still loose enough from earlier? Ready for a third?”

Harry hums, suddenly remembering when Louis ate him out in the shower after they woke up. “Yeah, go on.” He lifts his free hand to tangle his fingers into Louis’ hair, his tummy clenching when Louis’ ring finger breeches the muscle. His wedding ring keeps catching on the rim, and Harry shivers, his cock twitching against his hip. It’s so domestic, Harry wants to cry. Or come. He’s not really sure which is going to happen first. “I need you to fuck me,” he croaks, his eyes rolling back when Louis brushes against his prostate. “Like, right now. _Please._ ”

“Gladly,” Louis smirks, slicking up his cock with the lube he seems to have had pulled out of the nightstand earlier. 

Harry comes immediately when Louis enters him, his back arching off the bed. This whole plan to get pregnant is messing with his head, making him eager and sensitive. He allows Louis to use his body however he wants, the oversensitivity not even bothering him. He just wants Louis’ come; just wants to be filled up with a baby. He’s moaning so loud he can barely hear Louis’ groan when he releases into him, his cock pulsing and filling him with warmth. Harry hums in satisfaction, smiling at the sensation of Louis’ pulling out and tugging the plug out of Harry’s hand, slipping it inside easily.

He lies there is a haze as Louis wipes him down with a flannel, using tender touches. He can’t stop smiling, but he really doesn’t care, because Louis is returning his smile in full force.

“I’m gonna go grab you some water and some of that cubed fruit in the fridge, alright? Just lay here and don’t move, got it?” Louis ducks down and kisses Harry’s tummy right below his navel. “All you need to do is stay here and get pregnant.” He glances up at Harry, flashing his teeth.

Harry presses his head further back into the mattress, feeling his face and chest flush. “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching down subconsciously and rubbing a hand across his belly. He can’t wait to be pregnant. 

**

“Louis!” Harry yells for about the thousandth time, stumble-running through the house. “Louis, where the _fuck_ are you?”

He nearly trips while making his way down the stairs. Holy shit, he needs to calm down. He stops when he reaches the living room, seeing Louis sprawled out on the couch, his hand just down his sweats for no apparent reason, as a basketball game blares from the tv. _What the fuck_. Harry stomps over to the tv and turns it off, turning around to Louis staring at him like he’s grown three heads.

“I was watching that, you know.”

Harry shrugs, barely listening. “Where’s the test that I had on the bathroom counter?”

“I don’t _know_. Now turn the tv back on.”

“Not before you tell me where the pregnancy test is.”

“I said, I don’t _fucking know_!” Louis groans, lurching forward for the remote setting on the table, but Harry grabs it first, holding it behind his back. Louis glares at him. “Why are you being an asshole about this? Turn on the fucking tv then go find your precious pregnancy test.”

Harry is practically shaking with anger, yet he also feels like bursting into tears. Why is Louis being so mean? His vision is starting to blur with tears, so he throws the remote at Louis, making him groan when it hits him in the balls. “Fuck you!” Harry screams, leaving the room and tumbling up the stairs two at a time. 

He slams the bedroom door and throws himself onto the bed, shoving his face into Louis’ pillow, immediately chucking it across the room when he breathes in Louis’ scent. _He’s such an asshole._ He’s not sure why Louis is so mad at him. Sure, Harry’s been a little pushy lately with trying to have a kid, but it’s not like Harry knew it would be this difficult for him to get pregnant. 

They’ve been trying for about a month, now. During the first week of failure, Harry had gone to visit his doctor, finding out when exactly he would be ovulating, in order to find out the best time to try and get pregnant. He had programmed the dates into his phone; messages popping up randomly to remind him that he and Louis should start fucking. He didn’t think it would be a problem. Louis likes sex, and he hopefully enjoys sex with Harry, so where is the issue? 

He rolls onto his side and stares at the picture on the nightstand of him and Louis. It was taken at their wedding; Harry was laughing brightly with cake on his nose, and Louis was watching him with this _intense_ look, like Harry was the only other person in the room. Harry’s heart lurches in his chest, causing him to reach out and place the picture facedown on the nightstand, not capable of looking at it at a time when he feels like shit. He’s not crying anymore, thank god. He supposes he’s come to terms with the fact that he’s probably never going to have a kid, and that something is wrong with his body and it’s not capable of giving him the only thing he wants most in the world. 

He feels cold all over; his body numb and limbs shaking on their own accord. He doesn’t even flinch when arms wrap around his waist and warm lips press kisses along the back of his neck. Louis’ hands rub over his stomach and it makes him feel nauseous, empty inside. 

“Baby,” Louis whispers, nuzzling his face into Harry’s neck. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t – I didn’t mean to be so rude to you. I just...I’ve been stressed with work, and I know that’s not an excuse to be mean to you, so I’m sorry.”

Harry sighs shakily, his breaths stuttering as he slowly relaxes against Louis’ chest. The embrace suddenly makes him feel like crying even more. Kind of like when he was younger, playing on the swings in his backyard with his friends. He jumped off the swing and scraped his knee. It didn’t even hurt at first, his friends running off to get him mom, but Harry didn’t understand why; he wasn’t crying, so he didn’t need his mom. But then once he saw his mom rushing over to him, her worried voice asking if he was okay, her gentle touches caressing the side of his knee, he just couldn’t help it when he started bawling, cuddling into his mom’s warm embrace.

And he really can’t help it right now, turning his head to shove his face into his pillow, sobs escaping his throat before he can contain them. His shoulders shake with the force of it. He can’t even breathe with the way his lungs are constricting, his throat burning from his sobs. It helps a little when Louis starts rubbing soothingly at his back, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. He calms down surprisingly quickly, his sobs dying down to labored breaths.

“I’m so-sorry,” he breathes, his lungs heaving.

“Baby, no.” Louis runs a hand through Harry’s hair, combing his hair back away from his face and tying it into a bun with the hair tie he always keeps around his wrist for Harry. “Why’re you sorry? You have no reason to be sorry, darling.”

Harry shrugs heavily. “I’ve been so moody lately, and I’ve been taking it out on y-you, an-and I just still really want to be pregnant, and I thought you wanted me to be pregnant too, and I’ve been making you fuck me a lot, and I’m sorry.”

Louis barks out a laugh, rolling Harry onto his back to smother his face with kisses. “You haven’t been _making_ me fuck you, babe. I _love_ fucking you. It’s the reason I married you.” Harry gasps, affronted, reaching down to smack Louis in the balls. Louis grabs his wrist before he can make contact, chuckling against Harry’s cheek. “Kidding, sweetie. Oh, and what do you mean by you’re _still_ wanting to be pregnant?”

Harry pouts, hitting Louis in the balls for real this time. “I don’t need you making fun of me, Lou. If you’re gonna be mean about it, you can fuck off.”

Louis groans and grabs at his crotch, shoving his face into the mattress. “That’s not what I meant, Haz,” he croaks, rising up onto an elbow and placing something on Harry’s chest. “I found it in the guest bathroom downstairs.”

Harry looks down at his chest, seeing the pregnancy test from earlier. _Right_ , now he remembers doing it in the guest bathroom. He’s not really thinking when he lifts the test up, about to toss it onto the floor, when his eyes scan over the tiny screen, a plus sign and a smiley face staring back at him. “I’m pregnant,” he says, voice dull, his brain slow in catching up. He turns his head to look at Louis. “I’m pregnant?”

“ _We’re_ pregnant.”

“Huh,” Harry breathes, the plastic stick slipping from his fingers. He starts laughing uncontrollably, throwing his head back and cackling. He’s not sure why he’s laughing, he’s really not sure why he starts crying, but Louis cuddles him close, cooing against his forehead and rubbing his shoulders. 

He’s pregnant – finally, wonderfully pregnant. He calms his laughing and focuses on getting Louis to kiss him breathless, locking their fingers together over his stomach. He knows it’s not physically possible yet, but he can swear he can feel tiny kicks against his palm. 

**

Harry taps away at his phone, trying to beat a level of a game that Louis got him addicted to. That asshole. 

He’s been in the bathroom for who knows how long. He had woken up around one in the morning with severe nausea that led him straight to the toilet. After he had gotten back in bed, it was about thirty minutes later when he found himself back in the bathroom, clutching the toilet as he puked his guts out. He figured he would stay in here, just incase in more bouts of nausea crept up on him. 

“ _Shit_ ,” he mumbles, dropping his phone to the tile and lurching toward the toilet.

Nothing comes up; just a bunch of dry heaving that hurts like hell and causes tears to stream down his face. It had turned into just dry heaving about three rounds ago, and Harry wishes he could just fall asleep and ignore it, but he knows the nausea would just wake him up anyway.

He’s spitting into the sink after having brushed his teeth when Louis steps into the bathroom. He’s covering his eyes with a hand, peeking out from between his fingers, his eyes obviously sensitive to the bright lights. His hair is sticking up on the top of his head from how he was sleeping, making it look like a faux-hawk. Harry can’t help but step over to him when he starts reaching out blindly for him.

“Hazza, baby,” he rasps, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pressing his face to his neck so he doesn’t have to look at the lights. “You alright?”

Harry melts into his embrace, his protruding belly not allowing him to be as close to Louis as he wants, but it’s worth it knowing their baby is in there, growing peacefully. “I’m okay,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the side of Louis’ head. “Just some nausea, but I think it’s gone now.”

“Good,” Louis concedes, pulling his face way from Harry’s neck to smile up at him, but blue eyes piercing in the bright lights. “The bed was getting cold without my little heater in it with me.”

Harry blushes, ducking his chin to his chest. His body has been experiencing a lot of changes since he became pregnant four months ago; the main change being the weight gain and the drastic increase in his body temperature. At least Louis seems to enjoy it.

“Come on, babe. Let’s get back in bed.”

Harry nods, allowing Louis to take his hand and lead him into the bedroom, his free hand resting on his belly. 

**

Harry waddles into the living room, where Louis is sitting on the couch, watching some game show on the tv. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, slowly lowering himself onto Louis’ lap when he pats his leg.

“’Bout what, sweetie?” Louis kisses the side of his head, digging the fingers of one hand into Harry’s lower back, massaging out the soreness. 

“I was looking up some pregnancy articles online, and there was this thing talking about doing an amniocentesis on the baby, and it tests how healthy the baby is, and what we should expect. You know, it could be good for us to be able to prepare for the baby better.”

Louis nods. “That sounds fine to me. When were you planning on getting it done?”

“I have an ultrasound appointment at the end of the week to find out the sex of the baby, so maybe we can get it done then. I’ll call Becka and see if we can get it done the same day.”

“Alright, that sounds good.” Louis rubs a hand over Harry’s belly, slipping his sweater over the bump to caress his skin. “We’re gonna make sure you’re healthy, little pumpkin,” Louis coos at the baby bump, kissing the side of Harry’s belly. 

Harry smiles down at him, tangling a hand in the hair at the back of Louis’ neck as Louis continues to kiss him stomach, murmuring random sweet things to the baby. Louis glances up at him from beneath his lashes, his lips just resting against his skin, and Harry is so in love with him. He tugs at Louis’ neck, pulling him closer until their lips meet. Harry moans into it; the feeling of Louis’ lips on his and his hands on him just overwhelming him so easily ever since his hormones became out of whack. 

He groans, Louis’ mouth moving down to his neck, sucking a mark beneath his ear. Harry can feel himself getting hard already, even though they haven’t done much of anything. He think it’s a annoying, how easily he gets hard now, like he’s some pubescent teen, but Louis seems to find it amazing; always rambling on about how hard Harry gets with such minimal contact.

“I love you,” he gasps; back arching when Louis lifts his sweater up further to suck on his nipple. That’s another thing that’s different about his body; he’s actually got some tits now, and soon they’ll actually start to produce milk for the baby. They’re not anything impressive, but they’re definitely there, and difficult to ignore with how sore and sensitive they always are. He usually foregoes wearing a shirt around the house, just because the rubbing of the fabric on his nipples gets to be too much. 

“I love you too, sweetie,” Louis says, sucking a kiss to his lips.

Harry mewls, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck and keeping him close as Louis shifts them around on the sofa until Harry is lying on his back, Louis resting between his legs, careful not to relax all of his weight onto Harry’s belly. 

Louis breaks away to pepper his face with kisses, starting with his eyelids and stopping at his chin. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

Harry nods, craning his neck forward to kiss Louis one last time before he shuffles down further between his legs, tugging Harry’s briefs down and immediately taking him into his mouth. Harry hums in satisfaction, glad that Louis knows not to tease him when he’s like this, or else he gets angry. And really, no one likes an angry, pregnant Harry. 

He reaches down to grab Louis’ hand where it’s resting on Harry’s belly, tangling their fingers together. It’s weird not being able to see Louis when he sucks him off like this since his stomach has gotten so big. He’s about three months away from his due date, so he’s sure he’ll only be getting bigger and bigger. 

He whimpers softly when Louis presses a dry finger to his hole, just applying the idea of entrance, and that’s it really; Harry comes down Louis’ throat, his thighs shaking as his body shivers through his orgasm. Louis crawls up his body, licking his lips and smirking prettily and Harry gasps for breath, lifting his hips when Louis pulls Harry’s briefs up. 

“You’re amazing,” Harry breathes, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair as Louis kisses his neck.

“Nah, babe,” Louis chuckles, sitting back on his knees to kiss the swell of Harry’s stomach. “ _You’re_ amazing. Being able to carry my baby like this. _Our_ baby.” He pauses, smiling down at Harry’s stomach before looking up from beneath his lashes, smile still in place as he says, “My baby’s having a baby.”

**

“Babe, you need to calm down. You know the stress isn’t good for the baby.”

Harry takes a deep breath, glancing over to where Louis is watching him from a chair by the door. “I’m not _stressed_. I’m excited.”

They spend a moment to just smile dumbly at each other, and Harry is just starting to reach out to Louis, pulling him closer, when there’s a quick knock on the door before it opens, their physician walking through the door. 

“Tomlinsons!” Doctor Hutter greets, smiling warmly.

Harry and Louis murmur their greetings, both too anxious to speak properly. They watch as Hutter deposits her armful of papers onto the small counter by the sink before she washes her hands.

“So, Harry,” she begins, “Becka told me your ultrasounds that taken a week ago looked good, but you two wanted to wait until after we got the lab results to tell you the sex of your baby, yes?”

Harry nods quickly, chewing on his lip as Hutter pulls out a few papers from the stack and then waves a small envelope in the air.

“Here you go, then. Open it up while I find your lab results.”

Harry snatches the envelope from her, holding it in front of his eyes as if it holds the answers to everything. “Lou,” he croaks, turning to face Louis properly. “I’m gonna open it.”

Louis laughs, “Yes, okay, go on.” He squeezes Harry’s thigh and steps closer.

Harry slides his finger beneath the flap on the envelope and closes his eyes as he tucks his fingers inside, grabbing the piece of paper inside and tugging it out before opening his eyes. He blinks repeatedly as he stares down at the pastel pink square of paper between his fingers. _It’s a girl_.

“It’s a girl,” he whispers, looking up to find Louis watching him with watery eyes as he nods. 

“Little Abigail,” Louis murmurs, splaying a hand across Harry’s belly and ducking down to kiss him.

Harry kisses back as well as he can before he pulls back when he hears Hutter cooing behind them.

“Abigail Tomlinson,” she tuts. “That’s is just the cutest name. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispers, a grin splitting his face, and he truly feels like screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Now,” Hutter sighs, sitting down at the rolling stool to move closer to them, a small packet of papers in her hands. “Let’s discuss the amniocentesis results. There was one finding that we would really like to discuss with you before you two start making any other plans for birth.”

Harry can feel his heart drop to his stomach because...that doesn’t sound good. “What?” he asks, his voice raising. “What, what is it?”

“Mr. Tomlinson, please. I would like for you to stay calm during this to make it less difficult for all of us.”

Harry can’t breathe. _He can’t fucking breathe_ , and it’s pretty much impossible to stay calm while not being able to breathe, but he shuts his mouth and lets Louis rub soothingly at his back.

“When we analyzed your amnio, we found it positive for Trisomy eighteen.” 

Harry can’t speak, can’t even think from just looking at the look Hutter has on her face. It’s a look of regret and sorrow. She feels bad for them, and Harry doesn’t even know why – doesn’t _want_ to know why.

“What does this mean?” Louis asks, his hand having stopped rubbing Harry’s back, probably having noticed the way Hutter was looking at them as well. 

“Trisomy eighteen is a condition caused by an error of cell division of the fetus. It’s a result of the cells of the baby having an extra chromosome eighteen. It’s similar to Down’s Syndrome, but the medical complications are much more severe.”

Harry stares at a spot on the wall, and he can’t even process what Hutter is telling them. He feels numb all over; doesn’t even know if Louis is still touching him or not, but he probably isn’t, since Harry can’t even give him a healthy baby; he’s useless.

“How severe are we talking?” It’s Louis who asks, of course it is.

“The effects are more life-threatening than Down’s. Half of the babies born with this defect are stillborns, and that’s if the parents choose to keep the baby and carry it until birth. In your case, I am fortunately able to tell you that you two have a higher chance of the baby not being a stillborn, since it is a girl, but I want you two to understand there is still an extremely high mortality rate for female babies that stay alive until birth.

Babies that are born with Trisomy eighteen typically suffer from heart defects, kidney problems, delayed growth, and severe developmental delays. Once born, the child rarely makes it to its first birthday, but there have been cases where the child lives to be two, five, or even twenty. It really just depends on the severity of the symptoms.” 

Harry drops his head to his chest, tears falling onto the swell of his stomach, darkening the tshirt stretched over it. “I’m sorry,” he whispers down to his baby, hoping she can hear how upset he is, how sorry he is. “I’m so sorry, Abigail.” He’s sobbing now; loud, ugly cries that shake his body as his tears continue to fall and soak his shirt.

Louis reaches out and grabs his hand, his grip tight and unrelenting. “What do we do?” he asks, his voice strained and Harry knows he’s trying not to cry; trying to be strong for Harry, for both of them. 

“You have two options,” Hutter says, passing Louis a pamphlet of information. “You can either carry Abigail to full term and give birth, or you can say goodbye early and terminate the pregnancy.” 

Harry looks up quickly and shakes his head, lifting a quivering hand to wipe the tears from his face. “I can’t... I can’t get rid of her. I just named her, I-I can’t do that, Lou.”

Louis shakes his head, a single tear streaking down his cheek. “I’d never make you do something like that, Haz. It’s your body, and your baby too. You have the say. If you want to continue carrying her, and give her the opportunity to live after birth, I’m going to support you one hundred percent. I’ll always support you.”

Harry nods and tries to smile at his lovely, wonderful husband, but his chin quilts and quivers as new tears wet his cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers, lifting Louis’ hand to kiss his knuckles. “And I’m sorry.”

Louis’ face goes serious, his eyes turning to steel as he grabs Harry’s face in both hands. “Don’t,” he whispers sharply. “Don’t blame yourself for this. There was absolutely nothing you could’ve done to prevent this. You’re perfect, okay? You are the loveliest person I know, and I know you’re going to make a great dad.”

“But she might not even make it...”

“No. She will, Haz. She’ll survive, and she’ll be able to meet you, and she’ll know how much you love her, how much you care for her, and she’ll know you did all that you could to help her. She’d going to love you.”

“You-you’ll love her too, right? No matter how she turns out?”

Louis smiles softly, ducking down to press a kiss to Harry’s forehead, murmuring, “I already do.”

**

After finding out the news about Abigail, Harry has been even more careful about what he does. He’s switched to a completely raw diet and makes sure he eats plenty of food groups that will benefit Abigail the most. He’s even given up sex to ensure absolutely nothing can cause even more problems for his baby, and even though Louis hasn’t complained about it, Harry knows Louis is finding it difficult having to escape out of bed in the morning to wank in the shower alone. 

When they had gotten home from the doctor’s after receiving the news, they had spent hours sitting at the table filling out the birth plan that would be an agreement between Harry and the healthcare providers for what should happen during and after the birth of Abigail. While filling out the section asking whether or not Harry would want the doctor to try to resuscitate Abigail is she stopped breathing after birth, Harry had broken down crying while Louis held him. No matter how much Harry would want the doctors to try and resuscitate his baby, he knew she would most likely die from complications that would just end up harming her anyway.

It’s been hard coming to terms with the fact that he’s growing a baby inside him that may not even live to see her first birthday. He wants more for his baby; wants her to be able to grow up and see the world and be able to have a family of her own. He just...

“I wish I would be able to give my own life in place of hers,” he whispers into the darkness of their bedroom, Louis lying behind him and rubbing his side.

Louis’ hand pauses where it’s on his ribs, and he presses closer to Harry’s ear. “Please, babe... Don’t say that.”

“But I do. I just want so much for her. I would rather die than have her life end before it’s even begun.”

He’s surprisingly not crying. He figures he’s all cried out, since he’s pretty much cried every day for a month since Abigail was diagnosed. 

“I know, sweetie,” Louis whispers, kissing his neck softly. “I do too, but I also don’t want to lose you. This is happening for a reason, and we just need to let little Abigail run her course and do whatever God has planned for her.”

Harry sighs deeply, his hands resting on the swell of his stomach. “It’s just hard,” he croaks, a lump suddenly forming in his throat.

“I’m not going to say that I understand what you’re going through, because I don’t, but it’s hard for me too. I know it’s different for you because she’s growing inside of you, and she’s depending on you to help her grow as much as she can.” Louis snuggles closer, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist to clasp their hands together over Harry’s belly. “But you’re so strong, Harry. I don’t want you feeling like it’s your fault that she’s the way that she is. You’re perfect and beautiful, and so is our baby.”

Harry smiles sadly, squeezing their fingers together, before there’s a sudden piercing pain in the pit of his stomach, radiating to his groin. “Louis,” he groans, curling in on himself. 

Louis sits up abruptly. “I’m sorry, did I do something?”

“No,” Harry whimpers, “I think she’s coming.”

“You think she’s— _oh_. Oh my—oh my god. What do I do? Tell me what to do Harry.” Louis is suddenly running around the room, flipping the light and gathering their bags that have been packed for days.

“Just get me to the hospital.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, right, yes. I’ll just take these down the car and I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry groans, squirming on the bed.

Louis is back in a flash and scooping Harry off the bed bridal-style. Then Louis is buckling him into the passenger seat in the car, and then they’re speeding down the street in the direction of the hospital.

**

Day 1  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
You were born today weighing six pounds. You are already a miracle to us, since the doctors said you most likely wouldn’t make it through birth. Papa Louis is already in love with you, and he says he has been since before you were even born.  
We love you.

**

Day 11  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
Today you turned 11 days old and we are so proud of you. We celebrated your 11th birthday, and we have been doing that every day since you were born. You’re hooked up to breathing and feeding tubes, but you couldn’t look more beautiful.  
We love you.

**  
Day 20  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
We have been home for a week now, so that’s why you don’t see your nurses anymore. Papa Louis was nervous to bring you home, but it’s great having you here with us because it’s where you belong. We packed up all of our stuff and went out for coffee for the first time as a family. You slept the whole time, but several women told me you’re beautiful, and they’re right.  
We love you. 

**

Day 24  
 _Dear Abigail,  
Today you opened your eyes for the first time, and it was the most precious thing I have ever seen. Your eyes are a brilliant blue, just like your Papa’s. It has been great learning how to take care of you, and we continue to get better at it every day. We have to feed you through a feeding tube with special formula given to us by your doctor. It takes an hour and a half to feed you, but it’s worth it because we love you._

**

Day 27  
 _Dear Abigail,  
It’s 11 at night right now, and my feeding shift has just begun. Papa is asleep and the best part of my day has just started. My shift ends at five in the morning when Papa takes over. He cherishes every moment he spends with you, and I can see how much he loves you. I love you too._

**

Day 31  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
Today you turned one month old. Your papa and I never thought we would be able to spend this much time with you, but we are loving every minute of it. We had friends and family over to have a party for you, and it was beautiful chaos. We hope to spend many more birthdays with you.  
We love you.

**

Day 39  
 _Dear Abigail,  
At two in the morning, your feeding tube came out, and it was the scariest moment of my life. I thought for sure I was going to lose you, over something I did. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to you that could have been prevented. Luckily, Louis’ mom is a nurse, and she was able to get to our house by two-thirty, and helped guide Louis through putting your feeding tube back in. He was so determined to be the one to do it. He loves you so much, and I love you too. And just so you know, your papa is my hero._

**

Day 53  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
You now weigh 7 pounds 3 ounces and you keep growing. We’ve started giving you more food because your appetite is growing as well. I’m pretty sure you can now eat more than Uncle Niall, and that’s impressive. You keep finding new ways to steal our hearts, but it really didn’t take much to begin with.  
We love you.

**

Day 62  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
Today marks two months of your life. Your papa and I are so thankful to have you in our lives. You have started to move around more on your own and even make the most adorable noises. You like sucking on your thumb, even though it’s difficult because of the way your hands have developed into clenched fists, but you make it work because you’re a determined little angel.  
We love you.

**

Day 76  
 _Dear Abigail,  
We celebrate your birthday every day with a picture that I post to my Instagram. Your papa calls me crazy because I have been getting more creative with the pictures, but I know his favorite is the one of you and me together both wearing sparkly tiaras and pink feather boas. It’s gotten nearly one million likes on Instagram. The world loves you, but me and your papa love you more._

**

Day 80  
 _Dear Abigail,  
Lately you have been getting more frustrated with your tubes, and I understand it’s difficult or you, but they keep you here with me and your papa, so they aren’t going anywhere. Earlier when I was holding you, I could’ve sworn you rolled your eyes at me when I was taking a picture of us. If your papa taught you how to do that, you better tell me, young lady, because he deserves a spanking._

**

Day 83  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
You broke records today, weighing in at 8 pounds 14 ounces. You have also managed to grow a decent amount of hair, and I’ve had the time of my life braiding it and pinning pretty bows in it for pictures. Your papa says I’m over-doing it, but I can tell you like the bows in particular, so I’ll keep them.  
We love you.

**

Day 90  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
Today we had a reunion at the hospital. The nurses that cared for you when you were born were happy to see you, and it was a very emotional time for me. I showed you off like the precious trophy you are. Doctors continue to tell me you shouldn’t be alive, but you are because you’re a little fighter. I want you to continue fighting so we can prove all these doctors wrong.  
We love you.

**

Day 96  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
You have now passed the 3 month mark, and your papa and I were finally able to get pictures of you without your tubes in. Your lungs are getting stronger every day, and now you can breathe on your own for 30 minutes. We are so proud of you, and we pray that you continue to get stronger.  
We love you.

**

Day 99  
 _Dear Abigail,_  
Today you were taken away from us to be in heaven. Being born with an underdeveloped lung, a heart with a hole in it, and DNA that didn’t allow your body to develop correctly made it hard for you to continue your life, but you made it for as long as you could, and for that your papa and I are so proud of you. At your funeral, we released 99 balloons to represent the wonderful 99 days that you spent here with us. It was beautiful to watch you grow and develop, but it was all over too quickly. Today, we celebrate your life. Your papa and I miss you more than words can express, but we are only separated from you by our time left here on earth. See you soon, sweetie.  
We love you.  
Papa Louis  & Aba Harry


End file.
